The Survival Instincts of the Photo's Subject
by whatever55
Summary: Curiosity killed the cat… Is it bound to kill Angela too?… takes place during Memories in the Shallow Grave


**Title: The Survival Instincts of the Photo's Subject **

**Summary: Curiosity killed the cat… is it bound to kill Angela too… takes place during Memories in the Shallow Grave**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Bones this probably would have been included in the episode because you know Angela wouldn't let it go.**

**Ok… so I was watching "The Memories in the Shallow Grave" the other day and this idea just sort of hit me randomly. Takes place while Brennan is in the Bone Room looking over the skull and Cam comes in.**

* * *

"What are you doing?" a voice called from the doorway.

Angela jumped up from where she was digging through the cushions on the couch in Brennan's office.

"Oh! Good! It's just you. Get in here and shut the door. You can help."

The person at the door came into the office, but didn't shut the door.

"With what? Did you lose something in Dr. B's office?"

"No, Wendell. But I am looking for something." Wendell realized what she was asking him to search for.

"No… no way… not happening…" he told her.

"But you didn't even ask what I'm searching for and don't know what it is."

"I might not be as smart as Dr. B, but I'm not so stupid that I can't figure out that you're looking for that omelet picture."

"Come on! You got to help! You can't tell me you aren't the least bit curious what the picture looks like!"

"I play hockey with Booth," Wendell told her. "I'm really not."

"Oh, come on! You're spoiling all my fun!"

"And I'm staying alive by not pissing off the Army sniper and my very pregnant hormonal boss. Sorry, you lose."

"Why are you here anyway?" she asked, moving to the bookshelf to continue her search there, clearly trying to get Wendell out now that it was clear he wasn't willing to help her.

"I had some files that I wanted to leave on Dr. B's desk, but I think I'll hang onto them for now since I don't want anything attaching me to being here when you get caught. I'll just drop them off later or tomorrow, or maybe hand them to her since it's not about this murder case. I'm bailing. Good luck not getting caught." Wendell quickly left the room.

Angela went back to examining everything on the bookshelf. She was going through everything very carefully, sliding the books out partially to make sure that it wasn't between two of them. She was even opening them to make sure it wasn't inside one.

Once she finished with that she moved to the desk and was looking through the drawers. She came up empty there too. She knelt on the floor to see if Brennan taped it to the underside of her desk. She didn't see the person coming to the office as she started crawling to get under the desk.

"Hey, Bones, We—" Booth cut himself off at the loud thump that he heard coming from the desk. "Bones!" he yelled, worried as he rushed behind the desk. He quickly stopped in his tracks, completely confused, at the site in front of him.

"Hi, Studly," Angela said to him with a slight smile as she rubbed the top of her head from where she smacked it hard. "I guess you're kind of wondering why I'm down here, huh?"

"That's one of the questions that comes to mind."

"I guess you wouldn't believe me if I told you I was doing a sketch and dropped my pencil and it rolled all the way over here and I was looking for it, would you?"

"Really?" he said, sounding completely sarcastic and raising one of his eyebrows. They both knew he didn't buy it at all.

"Yep and I also own a piece of the Brooklyn Bridge that I'll offer to you for a penny."

"What are you doing in here, Ange?"

She shifted ever so slightly so that she was a little further under the desk just in case. He has threatened to shoot most of the squints at some point. She figured she was long overdue and wanted some barrier between them that might stop or soften the impact of a bullet. "Well, I was kind of wondering…" she trailed off.

"Yes…"

"Well… that omelet photo… full frontal or…" Booth just groaned.

"She told you about that?"

"She implied that it was her blackmail if you showed anyone the picture of her crying at the crime scene… that I have to see too, by the way, it's like hell just froze over, the apocalypse started, and pigs learned to fly all at the same time." Booth just laughed that time at the thought of him actually showing her that picture.

"Yeah, and then you'd get what you want by seeing the photo of me. Nice try."

"Fine, I'll just have to keep searching for it. I'll find it eventually." Booth just shook his head, looking regretful. They both knew he wasn't.

"I wouldn't suggest that. There might be consequences." Angela laughed.

"You don't have anything on me."

"No, but I am FBI and I haven't forgotten that you changed your name as soon as you legally could."

"You wouldn't!"

"Keep searching for the photo and you'll find out."

"That's blackmail!"

"Yeah."

"I don't like it!"

"I'm fairly certain you're not supposed to," a voice came from the doorway.

Booth looked up from where he was looking down at Angela under the desk and smiled. Angela popped up from underneath the desk, smacking her head again in the process.

"Sweetie, how long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to know that you lost in your quest for the photo and that Booth is smart enough to know not to show you the picture of me because otherwise that omelet shot would be blown up and hanging very nicely in the Jeffersonian." Booth opened his mouth and started spluttering.

"You wouldn't." She just raised her eyebrow. "Yeah… you would…" he said resigned.

"Right…so I'm just gonna… and you'll keep the omelet photo for blackmail on him and he'll keep the crying one for blackmail on you and have the FBI database for my name change… so how 'bout we all forget I was here and leave the blackmail hidden… 'K… great." She quickly left the office.

"Well that was easier than I thought," Booth said. "Food?" he asked Brennan.

"Diner?" she asked.

"Works for me." They both started to leave the lab.

"You know I think I'm going to need to make a couple copies of that omelet shot," Brennan said as they were leaving.

"Fine. I'll just have to make a few of the crying shot, too."

"We could just make one copy and delete them off our phones and put them in a safe spot that no one will find."

"That works, too."

"Should we tell Angela?"

"That we deleted them?" Brennan nodded. Booth thought for a moment. "Nah, let her think that we still got them in case she ever wants to find blackmail on us then she thinks she knows she's got but really doesn't have anything and we still have on her." She smacked him lightly on the arm.

"That's mean," she scolded him, trying to hide a smile.

"That's one of your scientists for you. Darwin. Survival of the Fittest." She stopped in her tracks and he turned to face her.

"Yes. I do remember some science," he told her smiling. "Now, I thought you were hungry?" She started walking again and they left the lab with her lecturing him on how Survival of the Fittest wasn't really a concept created in order to justify blackmailing friends.

It was good to know that some things would never change.


End file.
